Wolfe nodded and took another sip of coffee.
She went on. “You said we wouldn’t last five years together, and that I should reconsider. In the early months after the wedding, I laughed to myself about that, thinking how wrong you were. But by the end of that first year, I knew what a mistake we’d made, how totally unsuited we were to each other. When I was with him constantly over a long period of time, I found that Milos was hard to love, harder still to like. Fortunately, his music took him away so frequently that we stayed together longer than we would have otherwise. Even at that, the marriage was an almost total disaster. The only good things I can think of were that we didn’t have any children and that because of Milos, I came to know Maria.”
She paused for some coffee. “Long after we divorced, Milos came to London as conductor of the Philharmonia, and I met him at a reception. We were polite to each other, and he introduced me to Maria, who was then about thirteen. I liked her right away, and she seemed fond of me, too. I know Milos tried to discourage her from being friendly with me, at least at first, but Maria has her own mind, and we grew close over the next several years. Since she moved here with Milos, we write to each other only occasionally, but I still think of her often. It’s because of Maria that I came. Now that I’m here, though, I find another purpose: In my room at the hotel was a copy of today’s New York Gazette, and it said that you’re investigating Milos’s murder, that you’re not satisfied the right man has been arrested. Is that correct?”
“It is,” Wolfe said.
“The newspaper also said you’re acting on Maria’s behalf.”
“Also true,” Wolfe said. “I’m sure she’ll tell you as much when you meet.”
“I have never met her beau, of course, but I suppose it’s natural she would think him innocent. You must also be convinced of his innocence.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I am,” Wolfe said, “although I can offer no other candidate at the present time.”
“I’m sure your reasons are good. I know Maria has limited funds of her own, at least until the estate is settled, but I have no such constraint. Nero, I want to employ you to find Milos’s murderer, and you may set whatever fee you wish.”
I looked at Wolfe. We already had a client, albeit one whose assets would hardly qualify her as a preferred customer at Metropolitan Trust. But in the last few hours, two heavy hitters had stepped up and asked to join the team. I waited for his answer, although I knew what it would be.
“I appreciate the offer, but—”
“I know, you’re wondering why I would do this for a man for whom I had no feelings all these years. I suppose it’s because of Maria, and because he was my husband once. And perhaps because of my own conscience. I was as much the cause of the marriage’s failure as he.”
“What I started to say,” Wolfe replied, “was that I appreciate the offer, but even Miss Radovich is only a token client. As you well know, I owe Milos Stefanovic my life.”
She nodded and looked thoughtful. “Yes, that day in Cetinje, the police, the blockade...”
“I was a consummate fool,” Wolfe said. “I made every possible mistake, but Milos appeared from somewhere with a rifle and a pistol. He must have killed three of them.”
“Five, he said, when he told me the story later. But I seem to recall that you saved him at least once also, Nero.”
Wolfe turned a palm over. “I suppose one could say we all saved each other on numerous occasions. But nothing as marked as what happened that afternoon. It is a debt, and I dislike being in debt.”
“You’ve changed very little,” Alexandra said, smiling again. “Even then, you hated owing anything to anyone. Well, if you won’t take my money, you certainly have my moral support, for what that’s worth.”
“Thank you,” Wolfe said, bowing again. I was beginning to get worried about him. Three times this week he had stood when women entered or left the office, if you count twice for Maria, and I’d lost track of the number of times he’d bowed. If this trend kept up, he’d soon start helping women on with their coats or opening the front door for them.
“Nero,” Alexandra said, “I’ve come to New York a number of times through the years, and I’ve often thought of calling or stopping by. For some reason, I never did, but I always told myself I would one day. And I promised myself that when I did, I would ask to see those famous orchids. Is that presumptuous?”
Wolfe raised his eyebrows. “Presumptuous? Quite the contrary. Mr. Goodwin will tell you that I rarely deny that request. If you feel rested, we can go now,” he said, lifting himself from the chair.
“I certainly do,” she replied, and they made for the hall. “You’ll stay for dinner, of course,” Wolfe asked.
“I’d like that, if it’s no imposition,” Alexandra replied.
“In this house, a meal is always—” The rest of Wolfe’s sentence was chopped off by the closing of the elevator door.
I sat back down in my chair and stared at the wall. She and Wolfe went back a long way, and the relationship obviously hadn’t been a casual one. Well, I’ll be damned, I said to myself, or maybe it was out loud. I thought I had long ago learned everything I was going to know about Nero Wolfe, but here was something new. I smiled and started in on some of the office work that had been piling up.
I’d been at it about ten minutes when the phone rang. It was Wolfe, from the plant rooms. “I wanted to remind you that Mr. Milner is free to go, and indeed, he’d probably like to leave soon so he can visit Miss Radovich. Also, I know you see Saul regularly to play cards. What about Fred — is he still working?”
“Yes, or at least he’s trying. Bascomb uses him once in a while, but I know things have been slow for him.”
“Can you have both of them here tomorrow, say, at eleven?”
“I can certainly try,” I said. “And by the way, I may have forgotten to mention that I’m dining at Miss Rowan’s tonight.”
“Satisfactory,” he said, hanging up.
I allowed myself another grin. You may think the “satisfactory” was in response to my trying to deliver a pair of men to the office the next morning, but it was really his reaction to knowing there would be only two at the dinner table in the brownstone. And for the record, I didn’t have a date at Lily Rowan’s, although I was pretty sure I could wangle one. While I was at it, maybe I could hook an invite for Milner as well, since there was a certain party at Lily’s that he wanted to see. I turned back to the phone.
14
At eleven o’clock on Saturday morning, Nero Wolfe stepped out of the elevator that had lowered him from the plant rooms and walked into his office to find the three of us waiting: Saul Panzer in the red leather chair, Fred Durkin in one of the yellow chairs, me at my desk. They stood when he came in, and he stopped to shake hands with both of them — something he reserves for perhaps a dozen men. He then circled behind his desk, sat, and rang for beer.
Pretty cool, I thought. He hasn’t seen them in close to two years, but he’s acting like they were over for dinner yesterday. In case you’re new in these precincts, Saul and Fred were free-lancing for Wolfe long before the Giants and Dodgers snuck off to California. About Saul Panzer: He’s short, his face is mostly nose, his clothes are rumpled, and he always looks like he hasn’t shaved for three days, although he insists he takes a blade to his mug every morning. But he’s hands down the finest operative, free-lance or otherwise, in the city of New York, when it comes to tailing someone or sniffing out clues or persuading people to spit out information they’d rather keep to themselves. Saul asks for, and gets, double the going rate, and he never hurts for business, although through the years he’s always been willing to rearrange his schedule for Wolfe.